


Lovesick

by nameless_constellation



Category: Band Yarouze!
Genre: AU: Red Strings of Fate, Angst, M/M, Sad Asahi Headcanons, its not a happy end either, no one really dies but, rip my son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 15:08:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9767492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nameless_constellation/pseuds/nameless_constellation
Summary: "A slight of red flashed before his eyes, and a torrent of misery poured over him, dampening any happiness he might have felt. He quietly bit back tears. It tied him down, Asahi was sure of it and oh, how he wish he could sever it. "AU: Asahi is able to see the Red Strings of Fate





	

" _Secret Lovesick  
I just want to see you again_ "

* * *

 

 

 

The door to his apartment creaked open slowly, and Asahi stumbled in on exhaustion, sinking his tired feet into fluffy slippers. The live had completely drained him, leaving him on the brink of collapse.

He changed in the dark, fingers too tired to reach for the light switch. As he stepped into the shower, he thought about the cheers from the crowds, the tears of their manager, their final success and...

Kazuma's words.

"Good job. You're finally being more like a leader."

The shower hit him in the face, needle-like and sharp, as he lost himself in the memories of their live. Asahi flinched slightly, rubbing the harsh water out of his eyes. A slight of red flashed before his eyes, and a torrent of misery poured over him, dampening any happiness he might have felt. He quietly bit back tears. It tied him down, Asahi was sure of it and oh, how he wish he could sever it.

It started out simple, a strong admiration for his senior and a headstrong will to be his friend. Kazuma always seemed so cold, so distant, but he always tried his best at everything he did, and so, he shone with the light of a thousand stars in Asahi's eyes.

 

"If you're the leader, then act like a leader."

"Don't act like such a child, it's no longer playtime."

"Always give your 100%. If not, get out of my sight."

 

No matter how many times he was shot down, or how many times he was flat out insulted, Asahi never did give out, after all it was he who told Asahi to give it his all. And all he wanted to was to be friends with Kazuma.

Like any other thing he was involved in, it quickly spiralled out of control. The closer he got to Kazuma, the closer his fears crept and the tighter he clung onto his bandmates. Monophobia, Isolaphobia, Autophobia, just different names for the same thing—— the fear of being alone.

 

"You can get rid of it, if you tried hard enough. Learn to let go."

 

What silly nonsense. If he shut his eyes and strained his ears, he could still hear the sound of the Grandfather clock, ringing it's noon bells.

 

 

" _Asahi! Asahi! Come back, darling." It was a female voice, was it his Mother? He didn't know, didn't remember. Not his fault, he told himself, he was only three. But he remembered smell of raw cookie dough, the soft breeze of the fan and the heavy footsteps of frantic running. He was swept up into warm arms, and he remembered a song. Gentle and sweet, was it a lullaby? He remembered a low male voice, calling out to them from above, he remembered being lifted upwards, into warmer calloused hands, he remembered a heavy drowsiness and a certain heavy black curtain. Did he fall asleep? He couldn't remember._

_He did remember the acrid smoke, the unforgiving heat and the blinding flames on a lady's back. (His Mother?), the ashy ruins of a house and a skull grinning back at him._

_He definitely remembered the ten years he spent in the orphanage, alone._

 

These unwanted feelings washed over him, prompting him to quickly end his shower. As he collapsed onto his bed, he couldn't help but sneak a peek his pinky. A red winding thread that seemed to lead to nowhere. He really couldn't understand why it had to be him.

Another thing he couldn't remember, was when he realised he was tied to him. The more time they spent together, the heavier his limbs had felt around him; clumsier than ever, unable to function. He guessed it had grown from then, longer and longer, until it linked them together, like a anchor to a ship.

He didn't like to forget, really, despite the patchy holes in his memory. But he wished he could forget, he wished he could erase that day from his mind. That night at the district, they were hunting for inspiration. As uneasy as he felt in the prowling night life of the city, Asahi felt reassured, safe, tied down to earth walking with Kazuma. They had strolled quietly down the neon-lit streets, when they say her at the intersection.

The girl in the purple kimono's face was twisted in pain, a slender hand resting on her thigh. Her eyes shone with worry and anxiety, but were whirlpools that pulled those around her close. She was undeniably beautiful. He had turned around to ask Kazuma if they should help, but he was already walking quickly towards her. Asahi felt an ice cold sensation travel down his back, as he caught a flash of Kazuma's expression. As the red thread stretched further and further, Asahi ran forward, trying to erase the word from his mind.

 

 **Love struck**.

 

The next day, when Kazuma threw the song onto his table, obviously sleep-deprived, he felt his heart sink. As they gathered as a band, gushing over his newly-composed song, he couldn't help but spit out with a smile to keep his tears from flowing out.

 

" _Hey, Kazuma, you really are taken by her, aren't you?_ "

 

He hated the bitterness in his heart, for he was not used to being so spiteful. Yet, he was scared, scared that Kazuma will leave them like their first guitarist had, (He had left them due to family reasons but still —), that he will grow sick of Asahi and walk away. His hands trembled evertime he set eyes on that song and his stomach grew sick with dread. The tears never went away but...

 

"We'll bring the magic of happiness to everyone! Fairy......GO!"

 

Not even the success of that live could take the misery away from his heart.

 

No matter how hard he tried to forget, she returned again. They were out for lunch, and Asahi's steps were filled with a certain lightness. "Hey, Kazuma." He had turned around, before a small cafe, "how about here? It sure does remind me of that time we—"

He never got to finish his sentence. Kazuma had taken off running. There had been a fleeting giggle, a flash of tinkling kanzashis and a purple kimono fluttering in the wind. Asahi reached out, as if to pull Kazuma back. As he vanished around the bend, Asashi stiffly curled his fingers back and twisted his lips into a smile. It seems today just wasn't his day after all. It didn't matter that he had felt his heart strain and break, it didn't matter that he could see the thread being stretched taut. If he smiles his 100% smile, everything would be alright.

 

( **No it wasn't** )

 

Currently, he was sprawled across his desk, towered by mountains of books. He was bummed out, sapped of energy at one in the afternoon. Rubbing his eyes, he plowed forward, still finding no useful information on his fate. Asahi groaned, refusing to believe he had skipped two weeks of practice just to do this. His phone had long ran out of battery and lay useless on the floor, where he had smashed it out of frustration. Nothing had offered him a useful solution, and he was at wits end.

 

( **He was hanging onto the look on Kazuma's face as he chased after the girl. His mind refused to let go.** )

 

His coffee supply was running low, he mused as he stood up and stretched his sore legs. Briefly, he contemplated going out to get some coffee, but decided against it. Asahi was dead beat, haven't eaten in days, nor had he had a complete cycle of sleep. Stumbling, he accidentally knocked over his pencil case.

 

A pair of scissors fell to the floor.

 

An idea struck him and he reached for the fallen scissors. Would it work? His hand was starting to shake. Out of the corner of his mind, he could hear frantic footsteps, thumping up the metal stairs of his apartment's fire escape. He shoved it out of his mind.

It would work, he was sure of it. He pushed away all of the noises in his surroundings, a faint bussing settling over his ears. Everything had fallen into place, and he was delighted. An odd calm cemented itself around him, encasing him in a soundless space. Asahi slowly raised the pair of scissors to his pinky.

He didn't hear the door being slammed open  
He didn't hear Kazuma's frantic breathing  
He didn't hear the sound of the scissors hitting the floor once more.

 

"Ootori Asahi! Don't you dare—"

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

"Hey! Hey! Will...will he wake up?" Three people who had surrounded the unmoving boy leapt to their feet as the doctor came in.

"I'm...Im sorry. I don't know."

As the doctor left, a heavy silence fell upon the white room and its inhabitants, washing them in sorrow. The green haired boy frowned and looked down at the torn page in his hand, sneakily snatched from Asahi's desk. The last line had been blurred out, rendered nearly illegible.

"Do not cut the red string of fate. You must not attempt to change your fate for Death most certainly awaits."

Grimacing bitterly, he crushed the page with a shaking fist and walked over to where Asahi lay. He bent over and softly pressed his lips against the boy's forehead, even if he couldn't feel it anymore.

* * *

 

" _I love you this much,_  
however my heartbeat wavers.  
It will never reach your heart."

**Author's Note:**

> I love putting my son through pain and suffering because angst is my specialty. Probably bad characterisation but I don't exactly have too much to work with. Well, I hope this fandom grows soon so someone can cry with me. Also Asahi's past is purely headcanon. Not official.


End file.
